Twitching Neck Nigel – Page 24

Inchy Today: Sunday 9th March 2025

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This ode was inspired by Koheleth,
Who came into my dream on March seventh,
We chatted, and also… methinketh…
We rewrote the ten commandments, meseemeth,
He asked what mankind was really worth.
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Seems we shared many an apomorph,
In this dream, I was an ectomorph,
Seems he rebirthed in Dusseldorf,
He said life today is unsocial & tharf,
I don’t know what his words were worth.
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Long dead, he’s now a Grim Reaper, today,
‘I’ve got my own; he contacts me each day’,
He added; Mankind’s existence is not justificatory,
I said Well, there’s always been wars & poverty!
Mankind no longer read the words of the Almighty!
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I said, we no longer use mankind, but humankind,
It’s considered insulting to our female kind!
His looks of scorn tormented my mind…
Women’s duties, the Lord defined!
To reproduce, to submit to her husband.
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To the window I was beckoned…
He spoke as his arms lifted skyward…
Earthlings are no longer disciplined,
The Lord is thought less of than cannabinoid,
Faith, they go out of their way to avoid!
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The vision ended, and I felt isolated, bare…
Was this Old Testament man really there?
What was it he wanted to tell or share?
Did he visit to lambast or assure?
To the bible we should adhere?
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It was written by men to suit their persuasion!
To get a stronghold on the masses & accreditation,
Hundreds of faiths, claiming authorisation,
It’s no wonder I get depression,
Faiths & Governments are anti-egalitarian!
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Proletariats get only biased adjudicature,
Let’s face it, Starmer is an out-and-out liar!
Justice, fairness, & compassion we require,
We get greed, oligarchs, violence & war,
What can we do? Nothing, I’m sure!
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I found an old SD card hidden on the floor underneath the computer desk. I also found some photos of the progress being made at a house in front of the flats. It took another to update the series, but now it appears finished.
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Last night was the worst night’s sleep of the year
What didn’t keep waking me up? Every bloody thing seemed to! And despite being tired out, I struggeld to get back to sleep every damned time I woke up! I gave up at 05:00hrs.
Anne Gyna, I suppose, was the most oft-repeated offender, closely followed by Shaking Shoulder-Shirley.
As I moved my muscular, healthy, perfectly formed body to get at the , I started coughing and sneezing! Humph! What the heck next? Double Hump!

I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch. It was a bit darker today, and as I stood up, I lost my balance and gave way at that second… Fortunately, I managed to land on the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner that I’d just climbed out of. A bit of good luck here: did not bleed!
I emptied the night pouch, disposed of it, and paid a visit to the Porcelain Throne.
A stinky affair, and sticky as well! I got the tune of Phorpain gel to rub into Cartilage Chloe and Arthur Itis. However, I got some pm the day cather bag. I had to take it off and wash it. I’ve only got two left. I must order some more. I clearly remember thinking something similar two weeks ago. This brought on , Why? I Dunno! But he did.

I took a snap of the view from the kitchenette window. However, when I uploaded the shots to the computer later, they didn’t appear on the SD card. Treble Humph!
I gathered all the wastebin bags into one and placed it near the front door. Then, I got onto the computer and realised I had not put the SD card in Kodak Tim 2 or Kodak 1. What a mess trying to sort them out. It seemed so much harder to get to grips with while DDDD was present. I spent hours fathoming about getting them arranged in order.
Some are on each SD card and on each internal storage.

So I semi-guessed, reading each box to see if it said day or evening. Some I could not read, thanks to Glaucoma Gladys. But they were obvious ones I had to take day and night, so there was no problem. I took them. Then, as I was emptying the catheter day bag, blood was coming from Little Inchy’s fungal lesion. So I applied some cream Hydrochloride cream. Gawd, it hurt. Haha!

As it turned out, I pressed on with the blog—a mission impossible. I did not finish yesterday’s post but am starting today’s. What an imbecile!

Was joined by the longest ever Absence Seizures. I worked out the best I could, which must have lasted three hours. I was finally coming out, or back into, mock reality. The carer arrived. I know I was talking to him, but I do not know what. I’m going to have to ring the Doctor about these. Mind you, I already have. I waited 8 days to get a telephone call back from her. I have waited another 6 days for a call. This gigantic, lengthy, non-eleptic seizure left me confused & drained. Not good!

I must get Saturday’s blog done now (22:36hrs).

Done it! Hurrah! .23:00hrs

Earlier sunset snaps.
Almost like a painting?

Food needed now!
Wunderbar!
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Concerned at too many a seizure…
Differing types, lengths, anywhither.
Waiting for Matron, as assessor & advisor,
Three weeks now, she may come in October,
Worried about my mental architecture,
My innards, eyesight and Back-Pain-Brenda,
Currently, the worst different types of seizure,
My latest ailment is arithmaphobia,
Doing the medications ordering and roster,
I feel a sort of mental nincompooper,
Signs of my becoming a cacographer,
Eyesight & shakes, a terrible photographer,
My mind & body are contracting dystaxia,
Options, decisions taken, ever more dotier,
Prolonged seizures? I become a gongoozler,
Ankle ulcers colours, black, red and/or zaffre,
Little Inchies Fungal lesion, Anne Gyna,
Shirley’s Shaking Shuddering Shoulder,
Toothache Tiffany, Gladys Glaucoma,
Earache Erasmus, Acne and Eczema,
Cartilage Choe & Carol, Episodic Ataxia,
Dementia Doreen, Paroxysmal Dyskinesia,
Dark Dank Depression Duncan, a canker!
For reading this Ode-Moan; I thank yer!

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Forgive My Foul Language, but Starmer!
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Inchy Today: Friday 7th March 2025

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I have no answer…
But does that send me aquiver?
The question is now in the ether,
Failure does not make me angrier…
Although a tad more angstier,
Is it time to meet with an auger?
A psychiatrist or a neuro-analyst,
To study my mental architecture?
Could they identify my brain’s gender?
I have no answer…
I’ve learned to live amidst loneliness & failure,
Cope with confusion, with many a faulter,
If summat goes right, there’s always a forfeiture,
My cerebrums communications get froideur,
As depression leaves, I go sort of fribbler,
In depression, I am a self-faultfinder,
Coming out of depression, I’m a flaneur,
High-Mood-Horis returns, & I’m a farceur!
Either of two extremes, never in the middle…
Insanely merry, or misanthropical,
Self-loathing then self-pitying, ever manifestable,
In any mode, they are potentially mephitical,
In a depression, I’m unmollifiable,
Happy-Mode-Horis, I often feel mercurial,
Occasionally, carefree, almost mirifical!
I accept that I must be malnormal,
I hope this is mentioned in my memorial,
I’ll begone soon, do not be mournful,
Funeral? I’d like both attendees to be mirthfull,
Oh, can you bury me wearing my monocle?
If I’ve no money left, shove me down a sewer hole,

Happy-Mode-Horis is back, so I’ll add some more.
Another thing I need is an ameliorator,
Maybe help (stuttering) from an annunciator,
I don’t need an abuser, accuser, or advertiser,
Perhaps someone who can make me wiser?
Daily, I need my Finasteride & Beta-blocker,
Betamethasone cream & Nystop powder,
Glyceryl Trinitrate & Atorvastatin,
Ramipril, Furosemide, & Warfarin,
Olive-oiled the ears and testicles with Germolene
Acne & Eczema with Barrier cream,
Peptac, & thrice daily my Codeine,,
Nose spray, Eye drops, sulphate of quinine,
Germoloid eased the pain and sting,
And several more when I’m ablutioning!
Sorry, this waffle may need comprehending,
Then the kettle on for tea brewing,
It’s Glengettie, not Darjeeling…
My usual mixture/dollop of dithering,
Friday’s nearly done, I’m mentally withering,
Doing this ode, struggling with typing,
Gladys’s Glaucoma made it hard for seeing,
With one o’clock in the morning nearing,
I’ve not yet made time for any eating…
So busy with the new carers meeting,
Seizures and Anne Gyna competing…
To be the top ailment ailing,
Hope it doesn’t read as highfalutin!
Part tongue-in-cheek, are you approving?
Why the neurosurgeon is operating!
To check my complex enzyme, thromboplastin,
Happy-High-Horis is still with me; Amazing!
Despite my being weary & tiring…
I’ll have a bag of crisps. I must eat something!
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MY FIRST CAR
Mine was Christened as Wilhomena.
(Mine was a ‘W’ Reg [1980]).
It took me a while to stop looking for my crash helmet, boots and gloves each time I went out. After years of motorbike running. I met a gorgeous, hairy, muscled, big gal and hoped to impress her with a close to proper car. But it wasn’t big enough for any hanky-panky, and my efforts were rejected. I kept Wilhomena for several years.
Then, the gorgeous, hairy, muscled, big gal (Grizelda) returned to Nottingham. That was it; I had to get a four-wheeled vehicle that would permit room for a bit of necking, groping and copulation. But I did not have any spare cash. So, I hunted around to see if any showroom would do a straight swap with me for any four-wheeled car for Wilhomena.

SKODA ESTELLE
Meet Gladys. The only car I could get. But, four-door, and the front seats went all the way back to accommodate room for a bit of nookie. It was well used over the next three years. As for anything mechanical, I wasn’t too interested.
Back to the showroom: The petrol tank contained only fumes, so I had to get to a filling station as soon as possible. Driving along the ring road, I realised… I did not have a licence to drive this car! I’d been driving Wilhomena on my motorbike licence.
I swiftly booked a driving test. Grizelda was not weakening or responding to my begging and pleading for a closer relationship. It was months before I got to take the test, but it seemed like years.
Finally, I took and passed the test and rang Grizelda. She told me to pick her up at 19:00hrs! Which I gladly did!
Our first entwining was in the Skoda, and then we went back to my flat for the best nine hours of unmitigated, unbroken, pleasing, rough pleasure ever! Ah, memories!
Just thought I’d mention it.
Grizelda moved in with me the next day. 3 weeks of joy, satisfaction, amorousness, concupiscence, passion, lust, horniness, ardour & lustfullness!
I’ve upset myself now, writing this. Bringing back memories of Grizelda and bliss. Humph!

Regrets again today.
Nowt much on at all.
Sorry.
I’ve just been too busy again.

Still, the new Carers take over next Wednesday.

Matron Jackie has not called but still might do.

The Seizures? Up to now (16:40hrs), I’ve had fewer than for ages. After this time, the Mini-seizures played catch-up and many sessions of their favourite game, ‘Let’s confuse Inchy again’.

What I can recall of the day. (Again, no notes) Oh, yes, there are four lines on the notepad. Hehe! Tsk!

I woke around 03:00hrs, thought about getting up, and drifted off again. When I reawakened, assuming I’d been asleep for a few minutes, it was 07:00hrs!

I had to rush to finish things to avoid missing Matron Jackie in case she called. (She didn’t!) I removed the nocturnal pouch from the catheter, sorted the bin bags, and handwashed a towel and nightie. And I went to get the ablutions (shower-shave-teeth- etc) and medications tackled. Teeth, then a shave (4 tint-weeny nicks), nasal spray, then cleaned the rear end and genitals. Then, into the shower, a sit down job, as Cartilage Chloe gave way as I entered the shower. I enjoyed it but didn’t want to miss Matron if she called, so it limited my time sitting in he shower; such bliss!
I felt like a rhino at a water hole.

The catheter bag was dried using paper towels. Then, the usual procedures were performed: the fungal lesion on Little Inchie and the ankle, acne and eczema, and eye drops. I olive oiled the ears, etc.

This is the end of the notepad details. I hope I can recall things in chronological order. Many more must have happened, but mini-seizures, being so busy, having more than one person talking, and subject-changing limit the details in my memory. Confusion installed.

Tree Copse.

I can’t even remember taking these two.
Let alone when. PM, I assume.

Natoora tomatoes and Chinese-flavoured belly pork.
Cheesy cobs, into which I squashed the belly pork with hoisin sauce, and they tasted grand!
I certainly remember this meal. Unfortunately, I recall the sauce and bits of pork fat dribbling down onto the dressing gown and having to change it. Worse, washing up after the feast was messy: the oven was dirty, the oven tray was resuscitated, hehe!, and spillages were on the kitchen floor cleaning that near crippled me!
Still, it was the best-tasting nosh of the week!

Early evening view.

I forgot to ask for contact details when the new carer bosses arrived. They will be starting next Wednesday.
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When in doubt, look intelligent!
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 5th March 2025

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Today, I had a moment of pure glee!
And I was proud of my being TT,
Such a fantastic display of abstinency,
Also, my new found articulacy,
My fitness & mind control, no asininity!
I now count every eaten calorie,
Push-ups this morning? 223!
The women are definitely after me,
They asked me to go back to work, did I agree?
I made up my mind and told them, certainly!
I’ve never thought more clearheadedly,
I reread Exodus in its entirety,
I paid my overdue bill, for the electricity,
I cleaned up my groin; it was pretty bloody,
I sang and praised the Lord ecstatically,
I expect you think I’m getting delusionary?
One line of this ode is actual: I can tell thee…
But which one? A clue? Cleansed!
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Morning shot at approx. 05:30hrs
Morning shot at approx. 05:55hrs.

Ocado Oder arrived.
Daffies for the gals.
Food for me.
Drinkies for me.
More food for me…
Even more for me!

I don’t know much about what’s going on Today.

This morning’s shot.

The Carer took a shot of the head for me, tonight.
It’s looking better, healing already. And a lot less painful.

Tomorrow will be a busy day. I hope I’m up for it. New Carers will be visiting to assess whether they can take me on.

Matron Jackie might be calling.

The Amazon parcel should be arriving before 22:00 hours.

The catheter nurse is due, I think.

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CHEERS!
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Inchy Today: Monday 3rd March 2025

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I find life to be undefined,
Plans and hopes are undetermined,
Often, my thoughts are unwarranted,
My intentions remain unendorsed,
No outcomes are usually unassured!
Daily seizures are unprecedented…
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My brain? It cannot really be classified…
My bones & joints are crepitated,
In High Mood Horis, I’m almost contented,
Deep Depression Duncan often caprioled,
No one here, no chance of getting croodled,
Life is getting more circumscribed…
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There’s a hollowness when I get depressed,
I get sorry for myself, feel disadvantaged,
It may prompt wild things to be deliberated,
My thoughts get convoluted, disassembled,
A nasty DDD session can only be described…
As coffee that’s been decaffeinated.
I hate it, sickening until it’s departed!
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DDDD can’t be rectified or remedied,
It’s beyond being cured or rectified,
After it was analysed, I was repulsed,
Dementia inside cannot be resarciated,
I admit I felt forlorn, resigned…
The seizures & DDDD never retreated,
Another visit soon, to be reinvestigated,
I wonder if my brain can be reinstalled.
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In High Mood Horis, I can feel stimulated,
Although that sounds a little sugar-coated,
To wild dreams & fantasies I succumbed,
DDDD returns, I get mentally spifflicated,
The longer the session, the more scunnered,
Mentally drained, and feel shanghaied,
Writing this ode, I’ve been shemozzled…
The DDDD has suddenly sequestered,
Blessedly to uncaringness I succumbed!
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If Happy Horis stayed all day accommodated!
And DDDD could be disconnected, abdicated,
Then hopes & plans could be activated,
Then I could be far less aggravated!
And no doubt feel much less alienated,
But of course, DDDD can’t be amputated,
The damned DDD can’t even be ameliorated,
But I can get so frustrated and acerbated…
Realising that my needs can’t be assuaged,
Dreaming the Seizures may be assuaged
And Anne Gyna’s pains be abrogated!
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Daily, I’m self-loathed and vilipended,
Verbally, I’m self-verberated,
Also, I get self-vulnerated,
Once, when I left the hot tap running, I vomited,
And again, was self-vociferated,
I believed I should be vapulated,
Had my sanity been vitiated?
I kid myself I am capably viveured,
I’ve still often get self-verbally-violated,
The line below: Can I be acquitted and vindicated?
I’d gladly see Starmer vivisepultured!
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DDDDD WAS ON FOR MOST OF THE DAY.
Little got acheived.
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I found a few missing photos from yesterday’s internal memory of the Kodak Tim 2. Here they are.

Late evening shots from the kitchenette.
To the left
Centre
And the right
An earlier shot, with the moon crescent
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There’s not a lot on here. I’ve got to admit that really got to me today. I’m so sorry, but I was pathetically mopping about in between the lousy seizures and just couldn’t muster any enthusiasm until late afternoon when visited me. He didn’t stay long, and it was soon back to sitting, staring at what might as well have been a blank screen. But with an overfull catheter bag, too! The Carer told me when they arrived. An hour later, and returned and is still with me as I type away now on this computer. I spent hours on today’s ode. The reason? I’ll tell yers, Haha! Who usually comes on bad around 16:00hrs or so, blurred things at 14:00hrs.
Then, amazingly, at 15:00 or so, the vision came back quite suddenly. So I’m getting on with it, but naturally, I expect the return on or at any time now. Omlt just typed this, and electric shocks shot up my right leg, followed by his ‘ailment-in-arms’ partner .
No shaving cuts today, yet. I didn’t have one! Dirty boy!
As I was about to go in the wet room. Miserably, I gave up the fight and, feeling sorry for myself, sat down and fell asleep! I was woken up by who was in cahouts with DDD and Seizure Sandra. The daft things, I guess!
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Only photos to trigger the memory from here on.

I’m not sure this is today’s shot of the waste bags. I may have got it mixed up and deleted the wrong one.

I was merrily grafting away here. And I got that fearful, sudden-sinking feeling; I thought I had left the hot tap running again. I moved limpingly to the kitchen, and the catheter contraption fell down to almost my ankle! Arrgh!
The tug on Little Inchy was as near to excruciating as I wanted it to be. At least the tap was not running – but I’d left the fridge door open!
Now, the problems multiplied.
I had a mini-seizure as I was checking the catheter and tried to pull it up quickly to relieve the pain. Lost my balance and reached out to grab the corner of the counter, and unfortunately, I missed it due to the intense sunshine blasting through the window! I now have even more scars on the tight leg ulcer, and it bled a tiny bit as I caught it on the trolley.
On the bright side, there usually is one if I look hard enough -at least I stayed, as wobbly as they were, on my feet.
Now I had water running out of the fridge, blood trickling down my leg, a mess to sort out, and the telephone started ringing!
I abandoned the mess I created and got to the landline in time. Sister Jane talked about tonight’s Forest vs. Ipswich F.A. Cup game. She and Pete are going to it. (I watched it later; it’s still on the box, in extra time).

Then I went back to the kitchenette, and it wasn’t until then that I realised I’d just soaked myself in the cold water I’d poured into the bowl and dropped it! Wet dressing gown, legs, and feet. Which, of course, made the messed-up area even larger to clean up now! DDDD went deep this time. I can’t recall everything I had to sort out. It must have taken me well over an hour and a half. Washing and drying inside the fridge and throwing away some soaked foods. I changed my shirt and protection pants. Putting my wet slippers, shirt & dressing gown into the laundry bag. Then, I got fresh slippers, a shirt and a dressing gown. I still had some cleaning up I’d missed, and the landline rang again.
All I could hear was background noise. For anyone who knows me, to ring this late worried me. I thought it might be my sweetheart, Frank’s Jenny, or sister Jane. Jenny might have been in a pickle with something, like Jane. I’d got Jane’s number on auto dial on the landline, so I rang her first; as I did, I realised she would be at the football match. No surprise she didn’t answer. Then I rang Jenny. I know it was late, but she might have needed support or help, so I rang. She told me she was okay, and that was wonderful to hear. She spoke of the window cleaner situation at the flats and asked about the medical problem, and I told her I was waiting for Matron Jackie to visit me to explain about the seizures. Bless her for her caring nature ♥. Then Jane rang back. I was in total disarray. So many things were happening simultaneously, and I had little, if any, control over any of them.

Anne Gyna and both turned their attentions on me at the same time.
I had to give up sorting anything out. Concentration and confusion took over. I’ll try to finish this before I give up and get my head down. I’m so tired and weary now. Even joined in the mayhem.
I’m not interested in eating at all. In the morning, I must ask the caregiver to redo/repair/replace the catheter for me.

I’ll get the out-of-sync photos on.

Aha, letters delivered.
Carer allowance cut?
It’s still unopened.
The same dosages.
I remembered and made time to update the c1970s clock-calender at 17:10hrs it seemed. Hehe!
Results of the Accifauxpas over the last two days!

I’ve eaten nothing all day and am so tired. I think I’ll have some biscuits and get my head down.
Another busy day is coming up tomorrow.
Just what I need after today’s farcicalness!
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A Thought: Please make tomorrow less stressful. PLEASE!
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I’ve got back with me again, now. Grumph!

TTFN.

Inchy Today: Sunday 2nd March 2025

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THE BEST WEEK FOR AGES!
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The mysteries of the unknown
I usually ask Google Chrome,
I can’t ask anyone. I live alone,
You can contact me on the phone,
Would anyone adopt me and make a twosome?
I’m housetrained and a semi-gastronome,
All mod cons, I’ve got a gramophone,
Plenty of drugs, opioids & oxycodone,
Fentanyl, morphine, & hydromorphone,
I’m involuntarily impotent, I acknown,
I’m seeking a well-aged bellibone,
I’ll try not to be too burdensome,
Back to the mysteries of the unknown…
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Why was I born into a family of homunculi?
Why have I never eaten a Georgian-style khinkali?
Starmer has not been assassinated yet. Why?
The voters are in a state of mamihlapinatapai!
Why does old age confuse and profundify?
We beat the plague, why not Streptococci?
Why call politicians politicians? Not succubi!
MPs are monsters, shapeshifters, liars & yokai,
Why has the Lord not returned to lithify?
Oligarchs, killers, warmongers to ignify?
We’ve disagreed, rules to verify…
Humankind plays with mobiles & wi-fi,
Existing with prices going high, high, high!
The mysteries of the unknown…
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Mysteries Unfurled!
Starmer’s inaction over inflation,
Cripples the proletariat of our Nation,
Result, vexation, indignation, & irritation…
Voters thought he’d be an agathodaemon,
His Labour values are lost; he’s an abomination!
His lies and backhanders create aversion,
Failed to convince us of his bourgeoisification,
The Labourites voted for an abecedarian,
His lying, directly and by omission…
Will rebound, bringing constitutional destruction,
Because there is no viable opposition…
Keirs is well aware of this situation,
And I’m ready for my cremation…
Then I’ll miss the upcoming revolution!
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I’m sorry that I mentioned the seizures were fewer yesterday than lately. They came back with a vengeance!
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What a fantastic dream I had last night!
I was in space, floating about, breathing and singing, and I was young again. For some reason, I was wearing my old football gear, including the rock-hard boots and shin pads! I knew that this could not be happening when the Tardis nosily came to rescue me. Inside was… wait for it… David Tennant’s version of the Doctor and Spike Milligan were inside! Both were sozzled and not making a lot of sense. But it was only a dream, and I seemed to know this then. Spike told me not to worry about the Darlek in the corner; the Doctor had unplugged it. That was it, all over, the dream had stopped! I think an electric shock up the leg was the reason for me shooting awake.
Just one solitary twich from , & I removed the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Then, I scribbled notes about the dream on the notepad near the hospital bed.

As I made my first move to get on my feet, I was delighted I was next to the bed cause I thought I had a seizure and a visit from , and fell back onto the bed at the same time. Probably not, though. One or the other. That put the mockers on my plans. No way I was going to go under the shower if there was a likelihood of another seizure. The wet room floor is a lot harder than the bed is. Haha! I decided I’d do the ablutions and medicalisations with a stand-up wash and shave my feet in a bowl of antiseptic disinfectant to soak while shaving. I put the kettle on for a brew of Co-op 99 tea and sorted the waste bags out. I took the tea in the wet room with me, as I felt several shooting up my right leg.
I utilised the Porcelain Throne first. Trotsy Terence was right back in full charge again. Surprisingly, there was a bit of pain as the evacuation sploshed into the bowl in about ten seconds. The blood could be seen in the water and felt on my bottom and legs. Now I knew! Today was going to be one of those days. I didn’t need my EQ to tell me, but he did anyway. Cleaning myself and things up kicked off! Much worse than she was yesterday. I stopped cleaning up and went to get some under-the-tongue tablets from the medical drawer. I’d been told to stop taking them long ago, but I kept them; they are rarely needed. But just for such an occasion as today, I’d take one. Only one is left. It can’t be helped; I’m not supposed to take them anyway. Slipped it under my tongue, and threw the box away. And hobbled back to the wetroom. Finished cleaning up and got the bowl down to fill with hot water, washing-up liquid & dettol. The plastic bowl split and is now unusable. I will still not risk a shower, though. Farcical, but it had to be done; I used the small picker-upperer to get a flannel to my feet and ankles. Then, I used it to get the towelling done. was having a great time in my chest! Stbbing here, stabbing there, up, down, lower, higher… Humph! I hadn’t thought (which is a perfectly natural occurrence for me) to check the date on the GTTs! Ah, well, too late now. My extrasensory feeling, uneasiness of what the day will bring, was reinforced when the flipping started again just as was dying down.
I don’t think it was a foreboding sensation, but it was more of an inkling that the day may bring forth calamities, Accifaupas, & Whoopsiedanglelops. Yet there were no signs of DDDD as there were earlier.
The shaving went well; just two more cuts. I forgot about doing my teeth.
I had all the usual treatments. But when I looked down at the leg ulcers, they looked like were building up to burst some papules of fluid soon. Both ankles seemed to be building up to it. Even the left one looked a smidgen dodgy.
The right one was simply painful, while the left one wasn’t at all. I found six new growths, three on each lower leg. They don’t bode well, but knowing my legs, they may be sweet as a nut in the morning.

I’d let the tea go cold in the morning fracas, so I washed and washed the mug and then got on the computer.
I’d been blogging for an hour or two, during which time the catheter bag had to be emptied three times.
I’ve no idea why; I’ve not been drinking the required amount by a long shot. I’ll start on the soda water.

The Carer arrived, Selina, I think. No, I made a mess of that. Selena came earlier; the odes had gone chronologically wrong again. I do that, I’ve noticed.
It was Carer Kimberly on the second visit. I’ve forgotten what I was going to write now. Erm… Oh, yes…
Kimberley spotted that I’d left the hot water in the kitchen sink. So, there will be no hot water until this evening. (Look at the time—it’s nearly teatime now.) What happened? I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if the seizures hadn’t discretely visited!

Better press on; I’ve not finished yesterday’s blog yet.
My feeling of foreboding seems to be correct.

.
I had about an hour of horrendous pains from .
Genuinely worried, I decided to call for assistance…
As I got up, I gave way, and I crumpled, aiming to land on the c1966, £300 charity shop-bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. I hit my bottom cheek on the arm as I landed! The blood from flowed and hurt a fair bit.
When I’d Phorpain Gelled Chloe and cleaned and medicated the piles, I rose to get to the phone and realised that the pains had stopped altogether!
Well, now I’m not so worried about not having any under-tongue painkiller. All I have to do to stop the pain is for one of the Cartilages to give way on me, sending me over, and land on my bum on the end of the arm of the recliner, burst the haemorrhoids open, and the Anne Gyna pains will disappear? Wonderful! Hahaha!

A late morning shot from earlier. The sun is beaming over the hill from behind the flats. Hello, another summoning from the innards.
Well, evacuation number two was almost a replica of evacuation number one. But there was no bleeding this time, I’m glad to report. It’s time to get on the WP reader and see what’s available. Usually, some great poems and fantastic pictures are on there. I hope there is one tonight; I’ll return soon.

There wasn’t much on today, but what they were was great.

Time to get a meal.
This may be one of the reasons for such a terrible night’s sleep. Along with and .

I put my head down, and it took a long time before I could nod off—then I kept waking up.

Not feeling good at all in the morning.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
DDDD DAWNED
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy Today: Friday 28th March 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– Good Run Continuing! –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – POLITICAL, AGAIN – –
The future of the world? A bloodstain,
East, West, ne’er the twain…
We can’t agree to help Ukraine,
Redtop is back as President again…
:::::
Oligarchs, a financial sovereign,
People starving in Suriname,
Chinese think war is a game…
Prices and tax rises, gigantean.
:::::
Starmer, EU, arcane, inhumane,
Backhanders, threats to ducdame,
Wars, death, it always the same,
Do they resist, desist, complain or deign?
:::::
Our planet should be a hallowed fane,
We think more of money, financial gain…
Help each other? Or eat our frangipane?
What I write, I believe, is germane,
:::::
People are so much more legerdemain,
Proletariats can do nothing, we’re lurdane,
To Politicians: life’s a profitable game,
Russia, USA, China, all are Suzerain!
:::::
Which leader is a Bonapartean?
Which leader is a Hitlerarean?
Which leader is a Robespierrean?
Which leader is a Shakespearean?
:::::
Do they know that life is not a video game?
Blaming each other as the villain,
What they say, they do not mean…
Each leader just wants to be the top apogean!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
FURTHERMORE & NOT WITHSTANDING…
A little serious, the above may seem,
Peace is something that rulers cannot attain,
Leaders do not accept the blame…
Neither do they feel or show any shame,
They’re extraordinarily, transmundane,
Am I living in the spiritual realm?
Who’s controlling Earth’s helm?
Is the planet getting overwarm?
Will we live to earth unwarm?
Are Earth’s leaders part of a secret deern?
Nuclear, coal, hydrogen, nor windfarm,
Will stop doing Earth harm,
Will the promised saviour ever return,
Keir spouts primarily lies & aeriform,
I don’t think politicians are homoiotherm,
Their actions affect my neuroectoderm,
Labours mob, are worst, skelm!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I discovered some snaps that I forgot to include in yesterday’s blog. Here they are. Better late than never. I managed to finish the longish Friday ode done before it got too busy. Seizures were again few & far between.

Afternoon views of the puffer clouds.
I’m glad I caught the contrails.

Evening shots.
Sunset.
The high up moon.

Evening meal, well, the only meal. Mixed a tin of chilli with a ready-made chilli meal. Bread & Lemon cake. Slurp!

Not a lot of detail in depth today. It’s been a busy day, and I’m being told off. Hehe!

A smidge deeper shade today.

VISIT
Not half!

Clock-Calender reset.

Daybreak shot.

Midday.

17:30hrs.

Notepad notes: Many are unreadable even with the spyglasses and reading glasses on. I’m assuming it’s always the same when it comes to teatime. It’s been like this for over a week now. I’ve partly guessed at some and left others out—not that many were on the pad. When things calmed down, I had a go at the word list replacement again. I wish I could rid myself of this addiction..
But it seems I’m obsessive. And I can’t!

Found the photos in the camera’s memory.

Multiple corrections were needed to balance things layout-wise before posting it on the blog. I got so angry with myself. This alone cost me well over an hour after I’d spent over two hours updating.

An undecipherable bit here…

Carers Marie and Selina made the first two calls. Marie changed the day catheter for me. There’s another unreadable bit here on the pad.

Phone Call from Social Services. She was not pleased with me. Sadly.

Chris did the teatime Carer call.

I realised that I’d not sorted out the catheter contraptions.
Mind you, I knocked over the drawers in the kitchen, and it took me at least three hours to sort out and reorganize them.

The main problem was that I did not stop working on the stupid word list. I’m not sure while I am doing it. I don’t think I’ll live long enough to finish it. Haha!

Went on comments and WP Reader.

Then realised how hungry I was. I almost returned to recompiling the word list, but I stopped myself.

Must get something to eat now.
I’ll catch up in the morning. (He says!)

I was getting the meal and about to photograph it when the landline chirped up. It was someone asking to speak to Helen. ‘No Helen’s here…’ – ‘Come on duffhead, don’t fart about!’ – ‘I think you’ve got the wrong number!’ – ‘Oh, shit, sorry midduck!’ So at least I knew it was someone from Nottingham when he used ‘midduck. ‘ Hehehe!

I forgot to take a photo of the meal: mashed potatoes, mackerel in BBQ sauce, beetroot, crispy onions, and garden peas. It was not as good as it sounded.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFNski!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy: Thursday 27th February 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
If I can if I can pass to pensioners some pain,
Kill a farmer financially as I pass along,
Kill some pensioners, although it’s wrong,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Take backhanders & get given a gong,
Then my living shall not be in vain.
If I do my duty as an Oligarch ought,
Make sure the war in Ukraine is still fought,
If I can spread messages that Hitler taught,
Then my living shall not be in vain
Then my living shall not be in vain
Then my living shall not be in vain
If I can help somebody as I pass along
And become a billionaire before too long…
Then my living shall not be in vain!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

0310hrs: I had an awakening like never before. I was instantly discombobulated. I knew I had to get up early for something… or did I? After a few minutes of trying to ascertain this seemingly critical mission was. I drifted back to sleep. That in itself was a rarity for me.

I woke up later, and the same thing happened. I was disorientated and perhaps getting a smidgeon psychotic over not recalling the urgent whatever it was!
I nodded off a second time. I had a dream this time: I was in a canal at night, keeping afloat using a wooden door. The next awakening was back to the usual style… with some shooting up my right leg, while gave me few jerks to the right. As if orchestrated, the moment stopped and launched a short but violent attack to get my shoulder joint out of its socket.
Amazingly, I went back to the land of nod again!
I think it was 0400hrs when I stirred once more. It took great effort, but I forced myself to dismount the hospital bed, detach it, and empty it .
The urine was the reddest it had been in the last week, scoring a 6 on the NHS scale.

I’d forgotten why I should have gotten up earlier, so I set about collating the contents of all four waste bins into one green one. I took it to the front door and added it to yesterday’s pile, which I had obviously also forgotten about taking to the waste chute. I was not with it, yet!

I went to the wet room to get the medicationalisationgs and ablutionings done.
There are usually calls for the to be used, but not this morning. There were no signs or signals from the innards. So, I got the teggies done. Then started to shave. Four cuts, all tiny ones, twice I dropped a razor, I knocked over the and dropped the can of shaving foam. Removed the plates of meat (feet) from the bowl of water, and had a good body scrub, and a gentler cleaning of the more delicate parts.
I dried off and tackled the areas in need of medicationalising. As is typical, they only caused pain, and I was puzzled that there was no need for them to be utilised. I did the other four areas and got the olive oil in the ears for the last task. No shower was taken this morning, but I did make an effort on the Porcelain Throne—a great effort. I had a go on the crossword book, but I had no success with that or encouraging the concrete torpedo to exit. It’ll come when it’s ready.

I veered of track, not that I knew what the track was anyway, and before getting dressed, I went to look at the prescriptions, which would last me until the next delivery. I was none the wiser after fifteen minutes of Arithmaphobia-driven struggling. It is very embarrassing to have this problem.

Finally, I got to the computer and adjusted the clock calendar on the desk. I then started on finishing yesterday’s blog and posted it off to WP.

The caregiver, Same, came at about 0830 hrs. She sorted the medications and put on my diabetic socks. She said that the warfarin tablets should last me until the next delivery.

I went on email and one from the Catheter deliverer. It is coming today. Unfortunately, I may have to leave the blog tomorrow to see if I can do a cartoon and ode. Because I’ve a mammoth job on Friday. I must find and sort the different catheter supplies and store them separately but in the same room. This is going to be a most-of-the-day job for me. I need lots of breaks, the Seizures, back pain, Brenda, Anne Gyna, and Gladis Glaucoma to be kind to me.
Ah, that’s why I wanted to get up early, in case they were delivered early and I could make a start on them... But they weren’t, so that’s that!

The Catheter contraptions box was delivered.
A big job for me to sort out tomorrow.

Getting dark already.
Took these shots from the kitchen window.

Getting on now. I’ll make a ready meal, methinks.

I added a can of cheap chilli to a ready-made chilli con carne meal. Bread and a lemon cake to boot!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
May I wish everyone a Great Day!
Not Pensioner-Killer Herr Starmer. Oh, na!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

SUGAR! I’ve missed some photos! I’ll put them on tomorrow’s blog. Danged Cognitive Impairment Iris!

Inchy: Wednesday 26th February 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
THE ATTRACTION
6’5”, beautiful blonde Sophie,
She moved so beautifully…
Glanced my way, & smiled demurely…
Her lip went moist & curly,
She turned, her heaving breasts my way,
I recall thinking… Whay-Hey-Hey!
Her curvy bottom wriggled cajolingly…
Thick thighs, dress shorter than a mini,
Hands-on her hips, audaciously…
As she neared, her scent oozed congeniality,
I smiled back at her welcomingly…
I stood up to greet her amorously…
But she walked straight past me…
Glancing at me admonishingly,
I should have seen the alterity…
I was out of my comfort zone territory,
I turned; she was snogging with Terry…
That night ended ego-bruisingly!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A GOOD START TO THE WEEK!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

04:55hrs: I returned to the land of the pretend living. Again, knowing I’d been dreaming, I had no recollection of what it was about.
The nocturnal catheter pouch was removed with no bother, and I emptied it and bagged it in the recycle bag. It was a good colour again this morning, and the bag was fuller.

The sky had a green tinge to it. Anne Gyna was giving a few stabs of pain, but not overly so. I had a mini-seizure while emptying all the bin bags into one. Physically, I felt better than I had done for ages.

I washed my socks and a towel, which my Carer Chris had taken off last night. I hung them on the electric airer in the hallway. Then the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so I hobbled into the wet room. This evacuation was the second one of its kind in two days.
Only a little bit messy and had made a draw of their daily battle to rule the roost, as if to put it. Hehe!

The electric-shocking ankle ulcer was still looking better than last week. I decided to update yesterday’s blog before doing the ablutions and medications. Why? I think the prescriptions might be arriving today, and they can come at any time of day. I’ve had them delivered at 2100 hrs once. At least I am getting them delivered; that’s a bonus—provided they arrive, that is, naturally. I must check the stocks in a while. The Doctor’s telephone appointment today is between 1000hrs and 1400hrs. And the eyes being so bad as every day goes on means the missed shower and shave will have to wait until the morning. Do I have anyone phoning or delivering in the morning? Maybe the catheters will be delivered? If I enter the wet room, I can’t hear the telephone, intercom or doorbell. I’ll do my best to get up early to get the ablutions and medicationalisationings done.
Every day, a new challenge or frustration can only bring on Dark, Dank, Depressing Duncan!

I returned to the ‘Steptoe & Son room copy, and it was without a mug of tea!
!
As I sat on the computer chair, a pain came from poor Little Inchie! I found the problem. The catheter pouch was already filled and ready to burst, and the weight pulled it down as I sat down. I emptied it into the measuring jug, and nearly 1800ml of urine had passed!
In just over two hours!
Two hours later, I’d passed 1500ml! And I’d not been drinking heavily, less than a litre of soda water, that’s all. Well? When I turned on the computer, I soon realised why I had completed the templates so quickly last night.
I’d got the dates wrong on so many of them. What an Idiot! After a few curse words, self-insults, and grinding of my already half-broken teeth… I wanted to cry! This arithmaphobia is getting worse. I swear it is! Yet on words, apart from spelling and selecting the optimum one, I assume it is due to insufficient memory (like the computer) or Cognitive Impairment Iris.
I’m losing the battle.

After Carer Kimberly did the financials, I felt sorry for myself. Chloe called the chemist to confirm that the medications would be delivered. The order is due today.

I got an email from Vynne telling me they have my order and will let me know when it is coming. I assumed it would be some Catheter Bags, but I don’t know. With ailment number 11 , there’s no telling.

The electric shocks up the right leg have been sparse up until now. The ulcer is looking even better than it did yesterday this afternoon. The INR DVT Warfarin nurse arrived, and I explained about the seizures and running out of tablets. Lansoprazole.

I made a food order for next Tuesday from Ocado.

I was not doing very well with this blog. So many side distractions today.

The intercom buzzed, and it was the chemist delivering the prescriptions. I emptied the bags, trying to sort them out and check for supplies that would last a month. I fear not, but then again, with my Arithmaphobia, maybe they might? What I ordered and what they sent were well off on some medications. Warfarin is only one pack of 28, and the dosage is 1½ and one on different days. Codeines, Peptac and Phorpain Gel they sent two?
I will go through it the same way next month and get myself in another pickle. Luckily, the Lazoprazole shortage is over, but they are two daily, and only 28 tablets were sent for the month. The Carere gave me two tonight. I lost ages trying to sort out the effect that the shortages would have on me. I’m none the wiser now.
Pareidoliaing this snap of the clouds, I found several pictures within it. Can anyone else see what I did that was hidden in the clouds?

Around 16:15hrs, the landline chirruped. I could barely make out who it was. It was my Doctor Vinla; I’d forgotten all about her calling. As anticipated, I had to keep asking her to repeat what she said; I got the feeling that this made me as popular as a ‘Fart in a Spacesuit’ with the Doctor. I mentioned the seizures and dizziness when the metallic taste comes up from my stomach and the alternative opposite moods, from happy to depressed, changing so frequently. Unprepared for her call, Anne Gyna had a go at me at the time, so I scribbled down what she advised me of.
It seemed the DVT nurse, bless her, had a word with her about my situation; that’s why she was late calling me, mayhap? Matron Jackie will be asked to call and clarify my situation. I thanked her, and that was that. I totally forgot to mention the prescription shortages.
And I think I’m getting a bit whiffy!

Then I discovered that Match of Day highlights were on at 10:30 tonight, and Forest was involved. What are my chances of me staying awake long enough to see it?

Must get something to eat.

While washing the pots, I spotted the moon high in the sky and thought I’d photograph it.
Got the wobbles, lousy effort!
This one was no better.
I gave up!

I tried to determine if the medications would last until the next delivery. But Arithmaphia Anita was not in the mood to help me.

Eventually, I settled into the c1966, £300 charity shop bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. And I stayed awake for the football programme!
Well, half of the first match!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Eigðu góðan dag – Have A Good Day
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy: Sunday 23rd February 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

There was a time that I was awesomer,
Although in some traits, I was awlfuller,
Friday’s dances, the girls at the Astoria…
To them, I was an acroparesthesia,
That was before I got apraxia.

Famous for my ability to talk bilgewater,
A bumbling-babbling, foolish blooter,
Searching for acquaintances that are boshter,
But always something of a boondoggler,
Then came a new ailment, bradykinesia!

I had a mini-todger, questionable cisgender,
I’ve still got it attached to a catheter…
Bald, so no worries over my coiffure,
Accepted as a bypasser or circumventor.
Never a winner, a 3rd place I’d chanticleer!

I’ve become an expert, frequent dégringoler,
Never was a fraud, cheat or deceiver,
Now, I suffer from dementia & dysphoria,
Unlike Starmer, I’m no denunciator,
The wrong word to describe me? Debbonaire!

Coffin-waiting, yet things can still enrapture,
A natter, laugh with a friendly talker…
CBD, magic mushrooms with elderflower,
Of course, I no longer use the chest expander,
Finances dwindling, so I must curb my expenditure!

I’ve led my life candidly, honestly, foursquare,
Getting annoyed at things that are not fair,
Like Starmer, PM, who lied to win, fibber!
Who loves a backhander, the freeloader,
Guaranteed to cheat, lie & work a flanker!

I’ve never been a dynamo, hero or go-getter,
I got cataracts then and still have glaucoma,
My failing brain & body is getting me grumpier,
I’ve avoided being a grammaticaster…
Now I’ve become a graphomania!

I’m an expert on my haemodynamometer,
But the stomach & body is getting heavier,
Mentally, I anticipate getting habromania,
There’s not much in my brain for it to hinder…
Only Dementia, my brain’s house-sitter!

We’ve Starmer, every day getting iffier,
Putin, who’s several countries inferior,
Hamas, Israel, peace inviting…
Amhara, Yemen, with Houthi insurgency,
Ethiopia, Myanma, Paraguay… insanity!

No wonder the world is getting jitterier,
Proletariats just want it to be joyfuller,
Leaders going for the citizens’ jugular,
Janitor, junior, juror, or justificator?
We have Starmer, the lying junketeer!

I find myself becoming more klutzier,
And unfortunately, more knaggier,
And maybe a snip more kludgier,
My ageing body, positively knurlier,
If only Starmer would act kindlier!

Can Starmer’s reign get any lousier?,
Can I get any more loonier?
I things go right, will I live any longer?
Do I want to? Can I get livelier?
Can I rid myself of this lacklustre?

Will Keir get even more of a miser?
£160,976 a year for Nottingham’s Mayor,
She is Councillor Carole McCulloch,
Why does the East Midlands have a Mayor?
Clare Ward, £93,000 a year, did I mishear?
A deputy Mayor on £46,500, Holy Mother!,

The end of the World is drawing near…
Maybe not caused by anything nuclear,
Possibly by a Green Peace neglecter,
Oligarchs, wars, or my Auntie Nora?
God, Allah or Jesus from Nigeria?

The end of the World is now less obscure!
Humankind will be the orchestrator,
A World leader on an overnighter…
To prove they are richer, the best occulter?
The most efficient proletariat ostraciser?

I now get more confused with my photocopier,
Camera, computer, & getting to Jupiter,
Anything mechanical, & phantasmagoria,
Also, of course, my own psychasthenia,
Not to mention my bladder parasitemia!

My right testicle went all quadrangular,
Had I a disease, a bug, a queller?
This concerned my partner & querida,
She said I’ve seen things queerer!
She’s such a quick quipster!

Life may yer get rosier,
Contentment can reappear,
The logicality of this may not register…
Old Father-Time may be the reawaker?
I was told I was a ropedancer!

My happiest job? A gas streetlight snuffer,
There was not much joy to share…
My contentment did scatter,
I tried to become a sketch-writer,
But had a life of being an own-goal scorer!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I got as far as here, and things went a little off-kilter.
I’m back from the hospital now; nowt to worry about. The little whoopsie actually stopped DDDD from dawning on me. That is the secret to fighting depression, then. It must be. Just bleed and unstoppable bleed. Hehehe!

Late in the day now, and I was getting close to catching up with things before Little Inchy’s Fungal lesion mishap.

I’ve little time to get much done, so it will be shorter than usual. I seem to be saying often? Hahaha!

Here goes: I got up late, and things were busy, so I started even later (Monday).

Night pouch.

Early morning view.

I’d like to pass on a little tip here, if you don’t mind.
When urgently looking in the bottom medical drawer for bandages to put on your lower regions, it is best not to trap your hand in the drawer and make all the drawers together tip over, trying to remove your hand from the drawer after ringing for an ambulance. Hehehe!
Just worth noting, I thought.

Going to get some nosh sorted out now before the Carer arrives. Oh, look at the time. It’s too late to cook the nosh now. Tsk! I hoped to stay up, not fall asleep, and miss the football highlights for the third night on the trot. I’m not too hopeful with my record lately.

Well, at least I stayed up long enough to see some of the football highlights.

But sleep was disturbed so often. When shooting awake, ensured it was a longer time before I could get back to slumber again… Hump!

I may have ordered the prescriptions wrong and got things around my neck. I must ring the chemist in the morning to find out what’s what—or rather, what I’ve misunderstood, misheard, or got bamboozled with.

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Tak Care O Yersels!
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Inchy: Saturday 22nd February 2025

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Today, I got a little carried away,
In many a different way…
By seizures, too often, alackaday!
Meige syndrome, Myoclonic, FND,
‘Absence Seizures’, DDDD,
Much Whoopsiedangleploppery,
Dementia Doreen kept logic at bay,
Coughing, sneezing, Stuttering Stephany,
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley,
Thoughts & actions were almost delusionary,
Still no prescription delivery…
Nor Catheter bags; hopefully, they’re on the way,
One addiction overpowered me…
I had to do it, and I did it fanatically,
An idea for an Ode, alphabetically,
I’ll have to WP it separately…
I’ve not yet finished the flimflammery,
I worked on it from 08:00 until 17:40,
The day’s reality was often just hearsay…
Self-guilt, self-hatred, blasting away…
Glaucoma blurred what I could see…
Late in the day, like every day,
I was all in, mentally,
Even weary physically,
It’s tomorrow morning now, Sunday!
I’ve just started this blog for Saturday,
Cogniscent Impairment Iris acted feudally,
I must have drank 8 mugs of Glengettie,
I’m only allowed 2 per day, they say…
Is bonkersness & insanity hereditary?
I recall some in my family being out away,
They told me it was for their own safety?
Specifically, cyclist cousin Ray,
My thoughts were filled with idiosyncrasy,
I tried to stay up for the football, such inanity!
Of course, I fell asleep involuntarily,
Woken a few times by Toothache Tiffany,
A.M., I was in a state of incongruity,
Sensing my existence was cruelty,
Thankfully, when I woke up, there was no DDDD,
But the git kicked off as I made my tea! DDDDD!
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I got so far behind concentrating and did poorly on the Alphabet Ode. (Most self-annoying), and time-consuming. This will be a short, detailed blog. Not that it would be precisely scintillating
even if it had all been by boring accifauxpas, ailments, and failings. (DDDD present).

Night pouch. Fair colour.

These time-consuming procedures were carried out without Accifauxpas—just one cut shaving and an unintentional shoulder charge on the doorframe on leaving. Which set off Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, who soon calmed down afterwards. The medicationalisationings went very well indeed. (No, I’m not joking) For some reason, creaming underneath the catheter strap bleeding did not hurt one iota! The new type of barrier cream is more effective than the old one. Or, due to me being in a mood because I had just drifted away into the ether and left me feeling free?

A decent, more normal-coloured morning shot from the kitchenette window when I was making the first of what turned out to be far too many mugs of Glengettie, Co-op 99, and Thompson’s Punjana tea?

I sorted out the waste bags and put them near the door.

I dropped the , as a series of Shaking Paroxysmal Dyskinesias seizures visited. Each lasted for about a minute, with about two minutes before the following one came along. I had five, I think. But there was no tumbling or falling with them. All of the seizures can’t be controlled and are like Starmer; they come, do anything they want, and kill people (pensioners & farmers in Starmer’s case) at will… but of course, the seizures don’t lie or take backhanders, unlike our hated, loathed, despise, lying by omission, figure & fact destroying, Tory-like Labour PM, Fürhrer Keir Isod the voters) Starmer. Who would be defenceless over his lies and manipulating facts in any court of law? But, of course, this is the HMG we are talking about.

Only today: Again, Starmer is laughing a loud lie.The Prime Minister has told Louisa James that pensioners will be better off in the long term under Labour because of the tough decisions HMG makes to stabilise the economy.
Hahaha!
But I respect his skill and determination to be and use a great misleader, with his slithery sidestepping, hocus-pocus, and mumbo-jumbo in the Houses of Parliament.
May He Rot In Hell! (Soon!)

At this point , increased in frequency and variety. Two mammoth ones included.
No memory notes left to use on the writing pad.
Around 05:00 hrs, the seizures got less frequent and were almost copeable with, as Carer Christopher arrived.
I had to stop writing the big ode and blogging. Glaucoma Gladys was fuzzing my eyesight, as she does after I’ve been daft enough to use the computer for so many hours.
I blame my love of odeing, which didn’t come out. It needs amending and catching up on in the morning. Indeed, this will require a lot of work and a smaller (above) ode writing, as initially, it was going to be the Alphabet Ode today, so I’ll do one in the morning. That reads confusingly to me? Sorry.

Some pre-seizure-ending photos.

FURRY ANDY

What a magnificent pose!
Glad to report that Andy’s servant, Doug, says that the lad is now back eating his greenies again!
Just look at the expressionable face Andy is putting on. Showing to me Contentment & expectations. ♥

Carer Joanne called, bless her heart, to return my laundry.

As Carer Christopher came, and I was feeling better after the seizure flood, I started feeling hungry. I took this sunset photo as I checked what I had to choose from for my daily meal. I bet Herr Starmer has more than one meal a day. Chris took my diabetic socks off, medications were issued, and we had a mini-waffle session.

I very belatedly changed the clock calendar.

Corned beef & potato hash.
A pot of instant mash, with a pinch of salt and black pepper, and a fork of Marmite added and mixed in, along with some garden peas.
With a pot of Ykos lemon yoghourt to have for afters. Nice! It went down well.

Now, I had to stay; I wanted to stay awake to see the football highlights. Huh! Zzzz!

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Doctor this coming Thursday.
Need help with DDDD.
The seizures are coming more severely.
Hope the Doctor can help me.
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TTFNski!